Jerlita Drabbles
by leafpaws
Summary: Random drabbles of the nerdiest, cutest couple around! Both pre-relationship and after they get together. No mature topics as of yet. Prompts/suggestions are highly encouraged!
1. Touch

**Prompt: N/A**

 **Rating: K**

 **Genre: ...Not sure, in all honesty. Romance? Hurt/Comfort? Up to interpretation.**

 **Word count: 515**

* * *

Jeremie had never been the touchy-feely sort.

Helplessly, he can only watch as Aelita draws her arm away from him with a half-suppressed sigh, her eyes downcast and her hand returning to its place in her lap with its partner. The temptation to speak up tugs at him, but he knows that it isn't appropriate- Odd was still rambling on the chair of the rec room, after all, and Aelita had tried to lace her fingers with his with little warning.

Besides, it isn't as if he knows what to say. A million words rush frantically through his mind, but as soon as he tries to piece them together, they slip through his fingers like grains of sand. Instead, he pries his eyes away from her, doing his best to disregard the warming of his cheeks and to focus on Odd's story.

Be it with the unexpected kiss, the occasional too close of quarters, or even the gentle, light touches she'd deliver him, he always froze up. The others teased him frequently about it, although that was mostly in regards to her- when he stiffens at the brotherly hugs Ulrich and Odd would haphazardly pull him in or at Yumi's infrequent teasing, however, the treatment is shared.

Now, though, Aelita disinterestedly nods along to Odd, shoulders hunched and face pinched. When the other boy finally seems to find a more captive audience in the form of Ulrich trapped in a game of foosball, however, he moves away, leaving Jeremie and Aelita in their tense silence.

Pensively, he searches her expression. Their relationship status had only been made official recently- and with that came a wide variety of gray areas he dare not wander just yet. Even so, her evident disenchantment as she runs a hand through her pink hair and turns her eyes impassively to the football game on the television is enough to make him question every action he's taken thus far.

Uncertainly, he lifts his hand from the couch cushion, his fingers curling in the air. He lets it hover for a moment, and then he sets it on hers, turning her hand to weave his fingers into hers.

She starts with surprise, glancing down incredulously at her hand and his before looking back to him.

Mouth suddenly dry, he swallows hard and mutters, "I'm trying, you know."

Aelita absorbs that for a moment; she drops her eyes once more. Tentatively, she curls her fingers into his hand more firmly. A pleased smile finds her as she returns her gaze to him. "I know."

"I-I'm just not used to-"

"I know. It's okay." Gingerly, she leans against his shoulder. Perhaps he goes rigid, for she doesn't apply much weight. "One step at a time, right?"

"Right..."

Already, the warmth of her hand and of her in general inundates him. A wave of embarrassment twists his stomach. This isn't supposed to be difficult; it's basic human interaction, for goodness's sake.

But for now, this is enough. And after a short time, he's comfortable enough to lean a little into her as well.


	2. Phobias

I've seen everyone's suggestions, and I'm excited to work on them! Here's one while those are in progress.

This one takes place during season 4. Enjoy!

* * *

When it happens to her, it's when she sees an Alaskan malamute.

They're trekking through the park, taking the scenic route back to Kadic Academy following a rather laborious XANA attack and dreading the punishment that was certain to come their way from cutting class. Despite everything, however, the mood was cheerful- they'd handled the attack preemptively; XANA hadn't had time to spawn a single polymorph before they'd deactivated the tower.

However, because Jeremie and she had decided to run through the necessary checks on the Supercomputer to assure that XANA's attack hadn't been internal, they had remained at the factory while the group had gone ahead, but promises to be back by dinner and unremarkable results led to a swift return.

Being beyond the campus, dog-walkers and hikers weren't uncommon, as the park lands were one of the few places in the nearby vicinity for people to travel to for fresh air beyond the suburbia of Sceaux. It wasn't anything abnormal, nor was there any reason at all to believe any dog could be possessed, as XANA had been deactivated just a short half hour prior.

But when her eyes land on the dog, with its pointed ears, gray-and-white fur, and thick, bushy tail, her heart leaps into her throat. She grabs the nearest anchor-Jeremie's arm, she realizes as she recognizes the soft fabric of his sweatshirt beneath her fingers-and it takes everything not to scream.

His startled noise falls on deaf ears, for she's clinging on for dear life. She can't pry her eyes away from the massive, fluffy _beast_ on the path, trotting happily alongside its owner. The pearly white, sharp teeth exposed by its cheerful panting, its intense, amber eyes focusing on her and leading to an interested perking of its ears.

No longer is she in the park lands. Her mind takes her back to the nights of restless sleeping in the dorms, of the wolf that chased her relentlessly, baying at her heels, in her darkest nightmares. The snow of that place, by the Hermitage nestled deep within the depths of the woods, burns frigidly on her toes; she can _feel_ it.

The dog-walker continues obliviously. The canine _lunges_ for her, straining on its leash with its tail wagging. With a gasp, she cowers against Jeremie.

Much to her surprise, he shifts, stepping to stand between her and the dog. "Aelita, don't look at the dog, okay? Look at me."

She can't breathe. She can't breathe. The dog- the wolf, it's coming for her. Its howling is all that fills her ears.

Gently, he pries her fingers off of his arm, instead taking her hands and holding them in his. His touch his warm.

"Hey. Look at me."

Swallowing hard between ragged breaths, she obliges. Her vision is down to a pinpoint, fight or flight coursing through her veins.

His face is kind and understanding, despite the worried line on his forehead. "It looks like a wolf, doesn't it? It isn't one. You're safe. Take a deep breath."

She hadn't realized she'd hardly been filling her lungs with each breath she took. She drew a long one, over the course of a few seconds, and then shakily let it go.

"It's not here anymore. It's not a wolf- it's a dog, just like Kiwi. Keep breathing, okay?"

She does as he instructs, and the burn in her chest and the tingling of her fingertips begins to ebb. Her eyes sting.

When a harsh sob breaks out of her, he pulls her into him. The floral aroma of his laundry detergent washes over her. He rubs soothing circles into her back after a moment of standing rigidly still, even through the awkward tension that seems to grip him.

Even after the visions that had haunted her for so long ebb, she lingers in his embrace. In a vague way, it reminds her of her father; he's safe and warm. Here, the wolves and the cold of winter cannot reach her.

"Are you okay, Aelita?" He finally breaks the silence, apparently having realized that she had gone quiet and still. His arms loosen around her.

With a long, trembling inhale, she replies quietly, "I am now."

* * *

When it happens to him, it's when Odd invites them to his family's summer home.

The beginning of summer vacation had yielded with it much opportunity for relaxation and reprieve after a strenuous school year with barely any time to study, plenty of retaken tests from cutting class, and many detentions. Odd, however, had been particularly thrilled, and he gave them the reason why by showing them the string of texts his parents had given him.

Apparently, they had been entrusted to stay at Odd's beach house in Italy for a few weeks. It wouldn't encompass the entire summer vacation, but it was an exciting prospect nonetheless.

Obviously, with XANA active, Jeremie was less than happy about the revelation. Even so, he knew that he'd be ripped from the Supercomputer by his father for the summer anyhow, and they had already agreed to shut it down until they could return to the factory.

Aelita's eagerness had been the only thing that had softened him enough to convince him to go. And now, as he sits in the middle seat of the airplane, crammed between Aelita and some stranger, he can't believe he agreed.

The seatbelt sign flashes above him, and the lights inside dim. He draws a sharp breath.

God, he loathes flying. He really, _really_ loathes flying. But he can handle this, certainly. He's been electrocuted, nearly drowned, thrown into walls, and choked. A short, three hour flight is nothing in comparison to a XANA attack, especially when he knows that there's something good on the other side.

When the engine starts with a roar, though, he digs his fingers into the arms of his seat, and his heart rate picks up by at least seven times its normal frequency.

No, he _cannot_ do this. When he looks towards the aisle, however, the stranger sitting beside him is deeply engrossed in the work on his laptop, and when he looks towards the window, Aelita is staring outside with wide, intrigued eyes. His own are wide as well, but for an entirely different reason.

Before he has the chance to say anything, though, the plane is rolling forward, and he can't help the strangled sound that leaves his lips as it begins to accelerate.

Thankfully, Aelita seems to notice, for she glances over her shoulder with a quirked eyebrow. "Jeremie? Everything okay?"

He tightens his grip on the armrests and nods stiffly.

"You look pale- are you feeling alright?"

Swallows thickly, he grinds out, "Y-yeah- I'll be right back." The bathroom would probably be a far less humiliating place to have his freak-out in, after all. Besides, at this point, he doubts that the pilot would turn the plane around just for him to get off.

His hands shake as they search for the buckle of his seatbelt, but before he can get his fingers on the clasp to release it, the nose of the plane abruptly tilts upward. He can't help it; a startled yelp breaks out of him, and he grabs the nearest thing to his hand: Aelita's arm.

"Jeremie!" Clearly, he's given her quite a start, for she flinches back from his touch immediately.

His heart throbs in his throat, and he can't even begin to work out an apology as he squeezes his eyes shut. His stomach drops into his feet as the plane begins to ascend; he clings onto Aelita for dear life, as his mind tells him that if he lets go, he'll plummet into oblivion.

"Hey." Aelita's gentle voice barely reaches him through his panic. Gingerly, she pries his fingers off of her. "Hey, it's okay. You're scared of planes, aren't you?"

Clenching his teeth through his rapid breathing, he pulls his tremulous hands over his head and curls in on himself.

Embarrassment crashes over him in a wave of heat. God, is he this pathetic? As the plane rumbles with its ascension and his stomach lurches, he decides that yes, he is.

Suddenly, though, there's a weight on his back. A gentle pressure, something for him to latch his mind onto to distract himself from the terrifying weightlessness in his body and the pressure building in his ears.

"It's okay. I'm right here." The barest tips of Aelita's fingertips graze his back in a circular motion. "The plane's safe, okay? We'll be fine. It's just three hours. You can do it."

He swallows hard. His brain screams for him to run, to hide, to _get away_ from something that isn't even tangible.

"O...Okay," he breathes shakily. He half expects to see the world spinning or falling when he opens his eyes, but when he does, the environment isn't much different than when they were on the ground.

His eyes flick towards the window. Aelita smiles at him, taking one of his hands off of his head to hold it gently. "See? Everything's fine."

For the remainder of the plane ride, Aelita lends him an earbud shows him various mixes she'd been working on independently from her DJing gig. Every now and again, turbulence makes the entire structure shake, and he ends up flinching as if he'd been struck and paling, but she firmly roots him in conversation to keep him distracted.

By the time the plane lands, he knows more about DJing and music than he'll probably ever need. But he's smiling, and when they board the bus intended to bring them to Odd's place, his blue eyes are warm with gratitude when he regards her and mouths, _"Thank you."_


	3. Sweater Weather

Aelita sighs contentedly as she burrows deeper into her comforter, her body encompassed with warmth, softness, and comfort. Already, sleep tugs at the back of her mind; right then and there, she doesn't give heed to the snowflakes melting in her bubblegum-pink hair, even as frigid droplets drip down the back of her neck.

 _"It's freezing!" she remarks as they slip out of the factory, a chilly, midnight breeze snapping bitterly at her ears. She blinks as fat snowflakes catch on her eyelashes, bordering the top of her vision with white._

 _Jeremie halts in his tracks, drawing his arms into his sweater. His blond head vanishes into the blue for a moment, but he emerges a moment later, his sweatshirt instead held in his hands. Flashing her a bashful smile, he holds it out to her with one hand as the other fixes his glasses from their now-skewed position._

 _"Here. I didn't think it would snow tonight, sorry-" It had been his idea to test out a few new lines of code at the factory, but their visit should have only taken a half hour at most; no, she was also at fault for allowing their conversation to stray, for it was her quiet, wondering inquiries about the world as she had begun to learn it that had drawn their chatter somewhere deeper where time hadn't been able to touch them._

 _"Are you sure...? Won't you be cold?" Even with her fretting, though, her hand drifts to the fabric. It's soft beneath her fingertips, and it bears the warmth of his body even through the chill of a December night._

 _He shakes his head. "Nah, I'll be fine. Go on."_

 _She does. When she pulls it over her head, the clean, crisp scents of pine and mint wash over her, and it's so recognizably_ him _that it drains any sensation of cold from her in an instant. She smiles at him once she tugs the collar past her face, her eyes glittering with gratitude. "Thank you."_

 _By the time they reach the school, Jeremie isn't keen on admitting it, but she can see him shivering bitterly, as he donned only a gray tee-shirt beneath his sweatshirt. Perhaps he tries to hide it from her, for he shoves his hands in his pockets just after she detects a smudge of blue on his fingers. Hurriedly, he tells her he's going to shower, and he practically bolts at the mere idea of hot water._

Now, though, nestled into the covers, she doesn't even bother removing the sweater. She draws the arm of the sleeve- his sleeve- over her face, shutting herself out from the moonlight that leaks in through the part in the curtains.

It's the first time in a long, long while that she sleeps without dreams of wolves baying at her heels and of frightened shouts in the snow. Instead, she thinks of hot chocolate, kind smiles, and blue eyes behind black-rimmed glasses.


	4. Aftermath

Once they returned to Kadic Academy, making a beeline for his bedroom to debrief and relax, Jeremie had finally managed to quell his racing heart, but with that dip in adrenaline came the dull aches and pains of another day avoiding-and, at times, taking-the attacks of XANA's specters.

It had been particularly ruthless as of late. Just last week, he'd been nearly strangled against the elevator by a convincing copy of Aelita, and it had taken Ulrich and a crowbar to smash the fake away. At least his voice had finally returned from that incident- he'd spent several days at the volume of a whisper with his sweater's collar held high enough to brush his jawline, where it covered the bruises as they shifted from purple, to red, to that yellowish green before fading in their entirety.

Today hadn't been much better. This time, it had been machinery from God knew where, clumped together and melded into some horrid, destructive amalgamation of sharp edges and moving blades.

When he and Aelita had bolted for the factory, alone with reinforcements only on the way...

...Well, it hadn't been pretty, especially when it had lunged from the top of the elevator after they'd swung down and essentially corned themselves on the factory floor.

He still recalled the screech of the metallic blades scraping down the concrete, and now, as Aelita gently dabbed antiseptic on the cut on his forearm, he recalled even more vividly the flash of pain and the spatter of blood as it caught him just as he'd tried yank Aelita out of its path.

But, that wasn't important right then and there. With the damp cotton swab he held, he wiped at the scrape above Aelita's pink eyebrow, meeting her gaze and noticing her wince with a surge of sympathy.

"Maybe we should have done a return to the past," he murmured quietly. His eyes flicked down, noting her tattered, dirty clothes and the bruises and scratches beyond each rip and tear.

She shook her head, her eyes still focused on his arm as she wrapped it in soft gauze. "We've been through worse, right?" Once finished with her task, she lifted her gaze once more, offering him a reassuring smile that did nothing to surpass the dullness of fatigue in her green eyes.

"I suppose we have." _But that doesn't mean we should suffer now_.

But he doesn't protest, because he was well aware of the reason for her resistance. With every boost in XANA's past, their definition of the worst would probably only become more and more extreme. This was tolerable, at least.

There wasn't much more for them to say. After they had cleaned up their numerous injuries, and Jeremie had set the first aid kit on the floor, they sat side by side on his bed, shoulders pressed together.

Eventually, he broke the silence. "...Wanna watch a movie on my laptop?"

When she agreed, he retrieved it, pulling up the least-sketchy website he knew to download a film of her choice.

For the few hours it lasted, watching the lives of someone else allowed them to forget their soreness for the time being. The happy ending gave them hope that theirs must have been on its way.


End file.
